Hunk's Nightmare
by nevillelongbottomfanatic
Summary: Post- Oz, Dorothy is haunted by nightmares so painful that only her best friend, Hunk, can comfort her. However, what happens when Hunk has his own nightmare, and comes to Dorothy for consolation? The story of the chaos triggered by a simple nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is a story that has been wreaking havoc inside my head ever since I saw the new release of the Wizard of Oz on the big screen. As a child, I never questioned the relationship between Hunk and Dorothy; however, after seeing the movie now that I am older, I did some research and found that a concept cut from the original screenplay was that Hunk and Dorothy were basically in love. **

**This is my take on what happens after Dorothy returns from Oz.**

**I realize that Aunt Em is actually probably a sweet, caring woman, but, for the sake of this story, seeing as she is our antagonist, she is quite rude and unaccepting.**

*****Also, please keep in mind that everything in this story is purely innocent.*****

**And, as always, thanks so much for reading, and I would be so grateful if you reviewed! **

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Wizard of Oz, then Hunk and Dorothy would have been making out by the middle of the movie. Duh.**

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**Chapter 1**

"Hunk. Hunk! Hey!"

The tired farmhand awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open. Dorothy stood just inches away from the foot of his bed, her hair hanging loose, ruffled from her restless night, huddled in a thin, sky blue sheet that seemed far too cheery for this time of night.

Rubbing his eyes vigorously, Hunk slid to the side of the bed closest to the wall. Dorothy responded eagerly by silently slipping next to him in the small, twin-sized bunk, the mattress wheezing in response. She reached to smooth her pink nightgown, before grasping her blanket and spreading it generously over both of them.

Hunk, only somewhat awake, felt her arms wrap themselves around his waist, her head coming to rest contentedly on his chest. He reached up to stroke her hair, mumbling sleepily, "Who was it this time, D?" She took a shuddering breath, burying her face deeper into Hunk's chest before she responded.

"It was Scarecrow," came her muffled reply, "again."

Hunk felt the cool wetness of her tears soak into his T-shirt, and he could feel her shoulders shake with silent tears.

"There, there, D," he murmured, stroking her back comfortingly.

"Oh, Hunk," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry. It was just so terrible. I-I couldn't bear it, Hunk. He was burning, and sh-she made me watch him. I had to just stand there, helpless, while he burned right before my eyes."

"Hush. You're back now, Dorothy. She can't hurt him, not now. I'll stop her if she even tries to."

"Thank you, Hunk. You were always… such… a… good friend…"Dorothy slurred tiredly, and Hunk felt her breathing slow, until it found the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. He smiled, drifting off himself.

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It had begun just two days after Dorothy had returned from Oz. The shrieks that rattled through her clenched teeth made it clear that the dreams were far from pleasant ones. They always involved one of her three Oz companions- most commonly, Scarecrow. One night, the Tinman might be completely rusted, watching himself crumble. The next, the Lion could be attacked by Flying Monkeys. But, most often, the Scarecrow was burning. These dreams were incredibly painful for Dorothy to endure.

It took Dorothy a week to come to Hunk. She had awoken in the middle of the night, her legs tangled hopelessly in her bed sheets, panting, after a particularly excruciating nightmare. In the spur of the moment, Dorothy had frantically untangled herself, slipping from her bed, jamming her feet into her worn farm shoes, before swinging the window open, stepping over the sill and into the chilly night air.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she marched directly over to the small house only about eighty feet from her window, where the family farmhands slept. Upon reaching the house, she found herself hesitating on the porch. Granted, Hunk was her best friend, but he was unsure as to how he'd react to seeing her now.

Biting her lip, she pushed open the door nervously, stepping cautiously inside and pulling the door shut behind her, without so much as a squeak. Carefully navigating between the chairs and tables, she crept to where Hunk slept, on the bottom bunk, careful not to awaken Zeke or Hickory. She came to a stop at the foot of Hunk's bed, her gaze fixated on the muscles of his bare stomach before she knelt beside him and gently prodded him awake.

She explained her situation with the dreams, and he sat up in bed, leaning his back against the wall and patting the spot beside him in invitation. Dorothy scampered next to him, diving into a tearful retelling while he dutifully soothed her until, finally, she cried herself to sleep on his shoulder.

Hunk awoke, as usual, a half an hour before the others, and, finding Dorothy resting peacefully in his arms, he woke her and escorted her back to the house before beginning work. They acted as though nothing had happened , deciding not to mention that night to her aunt and uncle. However, only three nights later, Dorothy came to Hunk again.

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It had been almost two months since Oz. Hunk's bed became half Dorothy's at least twice a week, and they still managed not to get caught by either of the two other farmhands or Dorothy's aunt and uncle.

It was nothing new for Dorothy to come to Hunk with a new nightmare… in fact, Hunk had almost come to expect it.

But now, Dorothy's eyes fluttered open, and her ears led her to the window, following the sound of knuckles softly rapping at her window. She fumbled with the lock, before throwing open the window to find a sheepish Hunk… this was the first time Hunk had a nightmare that he needed Dorothy for.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N A shorter chapter today… once again, everything in this chapter is purely innocent.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Wizard of Oz… and if you try to sue my, I'll be forced to send my flying monkeys after you!**

**And, as always, reviews, favorites, and follows are greatly appreciated!**

"Hi," Hunk whispered, drawing a sleepy grin to Dorothy's face.

"Hi," she replied, pushing the window out further, then stepping aside so that Hunk could hoist himself up, his lanky form perched precariously on the window sill, one long leg on either side.

"I… had a nightmare," Hunk admitted bashfully, biting his lip nervously, "so I decided to come to you."

Dorothy nodded sympathetically, tugging on his arm to show him that she allowed him to come all the way into her room. As Hunk swung his other leg over the sill and into the room, his eyes darted from wall to wall, his eyes absorbing everything about this tiny, exclusive part of Dorothy's life.

Hunk stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as Dorothy drifted silently toward her blanket-strewn bed, unsure as to whether or not he should follow her or not. She collapsed onto the mattress, then twisted around to face Hunk. "C'mon, silly," she slurred tiredly, patting the spot next to her. He took a deep breath, crossed the room in two long strides, and deposited himself directly next to Dorothy on her squeaky mattress, kicking off his shoes in the process. Reaching down to the foot of the bed, Hunk pulled one of the worn, gray blankets over the two of them, then turned to meet Dorothy's expectant gaze.

"Well?" she murmured in anticipation.

"I just… had a bad dream," Hunk frowned.

"You know you're my best friend, right, Hunk?" Dorothy began, pulling him into a tight embrace. "And you can tell me absolutely anything."

"And I do." Hunk rested his chin on Dorothy's head. "Just… I'm not sure about this one."

He felt Dorothy's lips brush his neck as she spoke, sending a tingle up his spine.

"Well, I'll be here for you, if you want to talk."

Hunk remained silent, because how could he tell Dorothy that his nightmare had been about her, marrying someone else? Not exactly the most masculine horror story ever told, but definitely the greatest threat to Hunk. After all, Dorothy was the most gorgeous person he'd ever met. What man wouldn't see that? He fell asleep in agitation, fearing that the beautiful girl in his arms would one day belong to someone else.

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Just outside the partially open door of Dorothy's tiny room, a tight-lipped Aunt Em happened by, on her trek to the kitchen to prepare a quick midnight snack. Her gaze fell upon Dorothy's bed by chance, and her jaw dropped open, her eyes bulging with disbelief and anger. What a scandal, her perfectly good niece asleep beside that lowly, disgusting, entirely unworthy farmhand. She wouldn't have it. Spluttering indignantly, Emily marched furiously toward the kitchen, a plan beginning to brew in the corners of her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I've decided to update this story every Wednesday.**

**This story contains a great deal of fluff. While this chapter may seem like a filler, I just felt that it was important for the dynamics of the people on the farm to be spelled out.**

**Also, Dorothy may seem a little… giggly in this chapter. She's just happy, I guess...haha…haha… hehe...teehee...heeheeeheeeheheee...**

**Even though I realize that this isn't consistent with the movie or book, but, for the sake of this story, these are the ages I imagine the characters are:**

**Dorothy- 16 Hunk- 16 Hickory- 20 Zeke- 27 Henry- 65 Em- 61**

**As always, I love reviews! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Wizard of Oz… if I did, I'd play Dorothy, and all of the musical sequences would be a lot less enjoyable, and may cause you actual pain. **

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Hunk awoke precisely at dawn, and, untangling himself from a sleeping Dorothy, he slipped silently out the window and into the frosty morning air, the wind screaming in his ears, fighting him as he picked up a foul-smelling shovel and began the glamorous task of handling manure.

Had Hunk been paying closer attention, he might've noticed the face of Dorothy's Aunt Em in the kitchen window, her eyes trained on him as a wicked smile twisted its way across her face.

Aunt Em was sitting stiffly at the table, slurping her coffee with a determined look in her eyes when Dorothy wandered into the kitchen at 7:00, yawning and patting down her unruly curls down.

"Good morning," she chirped pleasantly, bending to plant a loving kiss on her aunt's head. Auntie Em just grunted, causing a frown to flash across Dorothy's face as she reached for the old pail, swinging open the door and stepping outside, the wind causing her skirt to swirl around her knees.

Humming pleasantly, Dorothy made her way toward the hen house. Passing Zeke on her way, she noticed the older farmhand hunched over his rake, his eyes shut in fatigue. Dorothy bent down to gently set the rusty old bucket down, then she tiptoed stealthily up behind Zeke, a mischievous grin curling its way up her face. Once she was within a reasonable distance, Dorothy crouched and pounced onto his back, wrapping her arms and leg securely around his torso. Zeke gasped, staggering forward a few steps.

"Dorothy!" he exclaimed, putting a hand dramatically over his heart, "I could have _died!_"

Dorothy threw her head back and laughed as Zeke began to run wildly around, her arms still locked around his shoulders.

Just then, Uncle Henry wandered by, chuckling and shaking his head as he watched Dorothy and Zeke.

"Hi, Uncle H!" called Dorothy as Zeke swerved in his direction.

"Mornin', Mr. Gale!" hollered Zeke, whirling around and zipping off to where Hickory stood, hammering nails into the old barn door.

"Mornin', Zeke, Dorothy!" Henry shouted after them, before continuing toward the house, smiling uncontrollably.

Nearing his fellow farmhand, Zeke reached back and swung Dorothy around until he was carrying her bridal-style. Once he was within a foot or so from Hickory, Zeke yelled, 'Hick, catch!' and immediately tossed Dorothy lightly into air.

Dorothy's screams turned into howls of laughter once she landed safely in Hickory's arms. Hickory spun her around a few times before setting her on her feet. He then proceeded to remove his hat with a flourish, sweeping into a deep bow.

"Good morning, Miss Dorothy. How'd you sleep?"

"I slept wel-" Dorothy began, but cut herself off with a scream when she felt a pair of arms snake themselves around her waist. She was whirled around several times before the arms flipped her around so that she was, yet again, resting bridal-style, but, this time, in Hunk's arms.

"HOWDY, MA'AM!" hollered Hunk, to which Dorothy responded, "HOWDY, HUNK. WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?"

Hunk only laughed and tossed her to Hickory, who tossed her to Zeke, who tossed her back to Hunk, who caught her and pretended to stumble, falling backward into a haystack, Dorothy clutched in his arms. She rolled off of him and into the hay, and Hickory and Zeke collapsed onto either side of them. Dorothy looped her arm through Hunk's and laughed, sending the others into peals of chuckles.

Uncle Henry walked over to them, chuckling.

"I love seeing y'all's reunion every day. You act as though you ain't seen each other in months."

"I'll get working, Uncle Henry, don't worry," smiled Dorothy, and the four of them pulled themselves out of the hay, brushing themselves off as they stood. Hickory and Zeke headed off, waving to Dorothy and reminding her to call them for breakfast. Hunk offered Dorothy his arm again, and Dorothy slipped her arm through his. Together, they started for the hen house.

Upon reaching it, Hunk fidgeted with the lock, until, with one final tug, it gave a _click. _Hunk turned around triumphantly, bowing dramatically. Dorothy giggled and clapped wildly.

Hunk turned to the hen house, only to be stopped by Dorothy.

"Hang on." she reached out, picking stray pieces of straw from his hair.

"There!" Dorothy smiled, running her fingers through his hair once more before turning him toward the hen house once more, his scalp tingling from its contact with her fingers.

As Hunk stepped inside the hen house, he took a moment to steady his breathing.

_Am I ill?_ wondered Hunk, his brows knitting together with concern. He reached for one of the closest eggs, turning and tossing it carefully to Dorothy, who caught it in her waiting hands and placed it gently in the bottom of the bucket. This pattern continued until the hen house was devoid of any eggs. Grinning, Hunk hopped out, locked it swiftly, then loped over to Dorothy, each of them taking one side of the bucket handle and starting off toward the house.

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Auntie Em watched her niece and the farmhand approaching, laughing and joking in perfect synchronization, and a sick, heavy feeling crept its way into the pit of her stomach. Em's hands bawled themselves into fists when Hunk left Dorothy on the doorstep, galloping away goofily and shouting over his shoulder, "Make the best omelet for me!"

Dorothy laughed and waved before turning around and ducking inside, bucket in tow. She flashed her aunt a greeting smile, which her aunt didn't return.

Dorothy began to hum as she inspected the eggs, preparing the kitchen for breakfast. When she glanced out the window at Hunk, an absent minded smile drifted lazily across her face. the look in her eyes as she gazed distractedly at him caused Em's feeling of dread to slowly spread through her legs and chest. Whether or not Dorothy knew it, this boy had changed her. And Em couldn't have any of that, now, could she?

It only took until to dinner for Aunt Em to hatch a simple, yet surely effective, plan.


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